


Triangle Theory

by B_eden



Category: Benjaminutes - Fandom, The Riftdale Chronicles (Web Series)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Emotional Comfort, Fear, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Love Triangle, M/M, Mind Games, PWP, Security, Threesome, maybe a tiny bit of plot, physical comfort, porn without much plot, reassurance, successful love triangle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 07:35:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18006587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_eden/pseuds/B_eden
Summary: This is a shameless threesome smut-fest, guyz. I don' t think you need to be familiar with the fandom to enjoy it, but you ought to get familiar with it 'cause it's great! Bart is in his room sobbing his lonely heart out while he listens to Clairvoyance ramble to Christian about his latest conspiracy theory as they do cocaine without him in the other room. Maybe the guys didn’t forget about him as much as he first fears, though?





	Triangle Theory

**Author's Note:**

> If you wanna know more about me as a writer and a person, (please follow I get so lonely and insecure) you can follow my:
> 
> Blog: https://caspercrowblog.wordpress.com  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CrowCasper  
> Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/writercaspercrow

Bart laid in the center of his bed and stared at the ceiling as he drew in a shaky breath to steady himself after crying for so long. He could hear Clairvoyance in the living room talking a hundred miles an hour as he detailed out a conspiracy theory to Christian. Christian deserved to have to listen to it! He shouldn’t have convinced the paranoid man to snort cocaine with him! What did he expect, really?

 

 

Bart sniffled again. They hadn’t asked the artist to join them. They probably had forgotten he was there all together in his own house. How was it that Claire was so brave around Christian? Even when Christian pointed his gun at the conspiracy theorist, it seemed Claire didn’t even flinch. He didn’t think Christian was going to hurt him.

 

 

Bart hugged his arms to his chest and curled in on himself. He was terrified of Christian. The serial killer priest either knew this, and he knew that Bart was too frightened to try and escape him or call the police, or Bart was so inconsequential to him that Christian didn’t care if he quietly climbed out the window right now and he never saw him again. Or maybe Christian trusted him? Bart shifted uncomfortably as he tried to decide if it was wishful thinking.

 

 

The artist was so lost in thought about Christian that he jumped a mile when his door flew open. “Claire! Oh, my!” He clutched his chest and rolled onto his back. “You scared the life out of me-”

 

 

“Bart! You’re not going to believe this-”

 

 

“I don’t doubt that...”

 

 

Bart’s eyes softened as Claire paced around his room waving his hands with excited eyes as he went into a long spiel about lizard people and pineapple on pizza.

 

 

“Claire. You seem a tad...wired.” Bart cleared his throat. “Perhaps you need a Benadryl to help ease your mind?” Bart arched a brow when Clairvoyance stopped to look at him as if he’d forgotten he was there and had only been talking to some audience over the radio instead.

 

 

“Have you been crying again?” Claire’s features molded into thick concern, and then into pity when Bart failed to keep from bursting into tears once again. “Hey...” Claire climbed over the artist so that he was closer to the wall where he felt safe, and he settled onto his back next to him. “You want to talk about it?”

 

 

Bart was impressed that his distress seemed to sober the paranoid man, if only a little bit. “It’s just...many things, Claire.” Bart rolled towards him, but he was too insecure to move close enough to touch him. The warped collar of Claire’s shirt was askew showing quite a bit of his shoulder. Bart’s fingers hovered just shy of Claire’s over-sized shirtsleeve as he unconsciously sought some form of human contact in his affection-starved world, but he caught himself and moved to cover his face instead. His shoulders quivered as he cried.

 

 

“What’s his problem now?” Christian grumbled from the doorway behind him, and Bart stiffened dramatically.

 

 

“Not sure. I’m trying to figure it out. We’re talking.” Claire’s alert eyes were following Christian as he spoke, so Bart knew that Christian was now moving around in his bedroom.

 

 

The artist looked over his shoulder in paranoia as he heard the criminal shifting around through his drawers. Christian was bare-footed and more disheveled than usual. “Do you m-mind?” The artist bristled as Christian tossed around his clothes before moving to the next drawer in search of anything he could sell or use to distract himself for the moment. “Christian! Keep your dirty little fingers out of my belongings!”

 

 

Christian lifted a vibrator and turned toward the artist with a smug frown. “Oh, I’m the dirty one?”

 

 

Bart gasped and slapped his hand over Claire’s eyes. “C-Christian! P-put that back right now! G-get out of there!” He whimpered when Christian’s other hand found his tube of lubrication just as Claire managed to curiously pry his fingers from his eyes. “Oh, god!” Bart reddened deeply as he returned to covering his own face.

 

 

“This thing’s bigger than my cock you greedy whore.” Christian scowled toward the bed when Claire snorted at him as if he was the only one with such an issue.

 

 

“He’s not a whore. He’s never even been with anyone.” Was Claire defending him? His voice sounded more amused than offended, so Bart could only assume he should be feeling heartbroken that his almost-friend was about to help make fun of him.

 

 

“He’s been with something.” Christian continued, and Bart winced because his voice was always menacing to the artist. He didn’t even know if the priest was capable of joking without it being a prelude to killing someone. “Look. I bet I know what his problem is.”

 

 

“Yeah?” Claire was all-ears, though it was almost heartwarming that he seemed to expect that Christian was going to say something truly constructive instead of cruel or manipulative.

 

 

“Yeah.” Christian tossed the vibrator back into the drawer, which Bart confirmed as he peeked through his fingers, but the criminal brought the lube with him toward the bed. “He’s sad because he doesn’t even realize he’s your fucking boyfriend. If you’d just tell him that he might not be so pitiful.”

 

 

Bart could feel the bed dip behind him as Christian knelt on the bed to look down at them. The artist tensed at the criminal being so close to him, and one of his hands dropped to pinch at Claire’s shirt. Claire wasn’t afraid of him, so maybe he could hold his own against him. Maybe he could reason with him. Maybe Bart wasn’t in danger as long as Claire was there.

 

 

“Thing is, you’re my fucking boyfriend.”

 

 

Claire hummed as if this was all news to him. “That right?”

 

 

“Fuck you. So how do you think that makes me feel that you’ve got another fucking boyfriend, asshole?”

 

 

_Holy fuck_. Or maybe he wasn’t safe _because_ Claire was there.

 

 

Bart whimpered as Christian settled in behind him and shoved a hand against his shoulder to force the artist onto his back between them. Christian was on his side resting his head on his hand, and he aggressively thumped Claire’s chest to get him to look at him. Claire’s face tilted toward him, and Bart whimpered as Claire returned Christian’s dark frown with an almost excited challenging glow in his eyes.

 

 

After only a moment of glaring at each other, Christian’s eyes darted down to Bart, and then back up to Claire in some kind of silent communication that Bart had no idea how to read. Claire rolled toward them and propped himself up on one hand to mirror Christian.

 

 

Christian brought his hand up to hover over Bart’s face, but he didn’t touch him as he held eye contact with Claire and began to drift his hand downward as if miming petting him. Claire’s eyes widened ever so slightly as he followed the motions.

 

 

Christian’s hand moved to Bart’s throat, and the artist titled his head back with a whine as his fingers curled against his skin. Claire pressed his lips in a flat line and shook his head, and Christian huffed before releasing him without hurting him.

 

 

Christian tilted his hand to gently stroke his knuckles along Bart’s face instead, but whether it was to soothe Bart or Claire, Bart wasn’t sure. Claire’s eyes shifted between Christian’s hand and the priest’s eyes repeatedly. The artist couldn’t tell if Claire was exuding more jealousy or lust, but he was fascinated to find that both emotions were clearly there now.

 

 

Christian continued to look at Claire while he spoke. “Bart. Take off your shirt.”

 

 

“E-excuse me?” Bart’s eyes darted to Claire to see if he would or could save him, but Claire’s lids had drooped expectantly at the thought, and he only nodded to encourage him.

 

 

“Or I’ll cut it off.” Christian’s hand left him and moved toward a pocket as if he was going for a knife.

 

 

“No! Christian!” Bart’s hands trembled violently. He wasn’t aware Claire’s fingers had been tugging at the hem of his shirt in anticipation until the conspiracy theorist was helping him pull the garment over his head.

 

 

Christian’s hand caught Claire’s in midair just as Bart fell back down stiff as a board between them while hugging his arms around his bare chest. The artist’s attention shifted between the two above him as their eyes remained locked in some strange game of chicken. Christian flattened his palm against Claire’s, and Claire mirrored him centered over Bart’s body as if there was glass between them. Christian pulled his hand back, and Claire did the same, holding his arm at the same angle as Christian as the criminal slowly lowered his fingertips to Bart’s shoulder on his side.

 

 

Bart shivered at the feel of someone touching his skin, and Claire seemed to take it as a challenge as his fingers feathered down against his shoulder on the other side. Christian flattened his palm against him, and Bart felt the mirroring warmth of Claire’s hand on the other side. Christian slid his hand down along his chest, and Claire did the same. The artist’s lips parted with a soft mewl as goosebumps fired across his skin.

 

 

Claire’s hand came to rest on Bart’s stomach and remained there when Christian suddenly moved to clutch the artist’s chin. The priest angled Bart’s face away from him to expose his neck and the side of his face, and he found himself looking at Claire with wide eyes as the conspiracy theorist watched Christian lean in to run his tongue up Bart’s neck. His lips pressed more firmly at the bend of Bart’s jaw, and he took a moment to draw a few more whimpers from him with the heat of his mouth before he began to carefully trace the spiral of his ear. Claire’s eyes shifted to Bart’s face as the artist moaned, and Claire’s lips parted when Bart’s eyes rolled back with the attention.

 

 

Bart swallowed heavily as he tried to understand how and why he’d come to find himself in this position and if he should want to be there. “C-Claire?”

 

 

Claire’s voice was dry as he whispered, “You’re okay.” The conspiracy theorist’s fingers clenched on Bart’s stomach when the artist’s hand unconsciously brushed his thigh in search of reassurance.  Bart’s eyes slowly opened only to roll back again as Christian continued his seduction, but his lids flew open when he felt lips press gently against his. They didn’t have time to deepen the kiss before Christian growled and yanked Bart’s head back to face the ceiling once again.

 

 

Christian sank down to follow Bart’s ear as Claire dropped his face to do the same on the other side. Bart’s legs almost ran in place as his hands clamped onto their legs while he tried to process any one single thought with the maddening sensations against his neck and ears and jaw. Bart arched up with a sharp gasp, and Claire glanced down to see that Christian’s thumb was caressing his nipple. Claire moved to do the same, and Bart cried out as his hips began to writhe in desperation.

 

 

“Oh...god...please...p-please...” Bart wasn’t sure what he was begging for. He wasn’t really even aware he was speaking.

 

 

Christian lifted to look at Claire, and he held his gaze for several seconds before he looked pointedly down towards Bart’s crotch. Claire followed his eyes to see that Bart’s pants held an obvious tent. Bart gasped for air during the temporary reprieve, and he looked down to see why Christian was now giving Claire a smugly satisfied dark smirk. The artist whined in humiliation and pried his hands off their legs as he realized he was touching them without first thinking to do so.

 

 

Christian leaned in and planted a chaste kiss against Bart’s cheek. “So, Claire. Why don’t you let me _fuck_ your boyfriend, and make him my boyfriend too, and then we won’t have a problem here?” Bart whimpered helplessly as he stared toward the ceiling and waiting to see what Claire would have done to him.

 

 

Claire’s lips brushed his other cheek. “Why should you get to fuck him his first time?” Their hands had returned to tracing along the artist’s body, and he was wriggling against the touch as they slowly moved closer to his lips as they spoke.

 

 

“Because you’re the one bringing someone else into this. I should at least get some perks for being so agreeable.” Christian kissed much closer to his lips.

 

 

Claire did the same, and the heat in his eyes seared across to the criminal as they inched closer. “You _are_ being pretty agreeable.” He kissed the corner of Bart’s mouth to follow Christian’s lead. “You’re almost being downright good, Christian.”

 

 

Christian’s eyes were on Claire’s lips now with heavy longing. “If he comes before you get a turn, I’ll suck you off.”

 

 

Claire’s mouth dropped open in shock and Christian surged forward to connect their lips. Bart hiccuped in confusion and arousal as the two fought for dominance an inch above his mouth. Christian’s hand slid behind Claire’s head, and his tin foil hat tumbled off onto the pillows. His hair was almost as unkempt as Christian’s, and Bart wondered how he’d managed to fall in with such an untamed crowd.

 

 

No sooner than Claire’s hand moved to Christian’s head, Christian’s hand dropped to unfasten Bart’s pants. Claire was completely entranced with Christian’s mouth, and Bart knew Christian was using the distraction to hurry the encounter along.

 

 

“C-Claire!” Bart didn’t know if he needed rescuing or not, but he was calling for the conspiracy theorist just the same as he stared toward the ceiling shell-shocked.

 

 

Claire ripped his mouth away from Christian’s. “Slow. You’re scaring him.”

 

 

Christian’s fingers slid along Bart’s underwear. “You can have dibs on first kiss.” He bargained as they both looked down as he lifted the elastic for them to see down his pants. “So, who goes first here?”

 

 

Claire’s eyes shifted back and forth from Bart’s lips down to his pants as Christian arched a brow in challenge and slowly pushed them down Bart’s hips. When Christian began to sink down, Claire looked to Bart’s lips again before he cursed and dove down to catch up with the criminal.

 

 

Christian huffed almost playfully. “Chill out. Jesus.” They shared another heated stare before Christian offered, “Same time.” He pressed his mouth against Bart’s hip and sucked until the artist squirmed and whimpered pitifully.

 

 

“Gentle.” Claire hummed as he kissed his other hip far more carefully.

 

 

Bart had no idea how Claire was able to hold his own against those dark eyes as they moved closer to the center of the artist’s body. Bart could only be grateful that there was someone to speak for him each time Christian’s intensity started to burn too hot, because the artist would never be able to communicate efficiently with the criminal, nor did he suspect Christian would hear him even if he tried.

 

 

“Bet he won’t last long.” Christian sucked against the bend of Bart’s cock, and the artist’s hands flew up over his head to tangle in his pillow. His fingers hadn’t even finished properly clenching before Claire opened his mouth wider against him to compete with the priest. “Do you think he can go twice?”

 

 

Claire glanced up to Bart’s face as the artist stared down at them with a gaping mouth and an expression caught somewhere between rapture and terror. “I bet he could.” Bart’s brows knit as if he couldn’t decide if it was an insult or encouragement. The artist’s heart was always on his sleeve for everyone to see. “Let’s find out.” Claire flattened his tongue against him and lapped upwards, meeting Christian’s tongue at the head as they twirled them against the tip.

 

 

“Oh...dear...god...” Bart’s head dropped back as the two men kissed sloppily around his cock before battling to see who could envelope more of him at once. “Dear...sweet...fucking...god...”

 

 

Bart felt a single mouth around him for several seconds, and his lids flew open in paranoia when the bed moved. He flinched to see Christian closer to him as he reached for the lube. Christian paused and watched Bart’s face for several seconds in what Bart’s lonely heart hoped was approval, but it also could have been ill-intent for all the artist could tell. Christian tilted his head to study him, and Bart would have been more frightened if he wasn’t so completely distracted by Claire’s mouth. Christian turned away all at once and shimmied back down into place. Bart started to relax, but then the criminal moved to unfasten his pants, and Bart panicked.

 

 

“Claire!” Bart whimpered when Claire attentively pulled off his cock with a loud pop that was probably more to affect Christian than incidental.

 

 

“The fuck is wrong with you?!” Claire snatched the lube from him and gave him a pointed frown because Christian wasn’t even being subtle about how he was planning on lubing himself up and taking Bart without preparing him first. Christian frowned, but there was almost a happy glow in the large pupils as Claire admonished him. Bart hoped that it was because he’d only been trying to mess with Claire and not because he’d really been going to be so brutal with the artist.

 

 

“Well go on then.” Christian nodded downward as he sank down to focus on Bart’s cock.

 

 

Claire groaned as he watched him deep-throat the artist, but his hands were still distractedly fumbling with the lube. Claire looked up to meet Bart’s eyes, but the artist seemed miles away as he made a small gurgling sound as Christian moved on his length. “It’s alright, Bart. Relax.”

 

 

“He’s relaxed, already. Just finger fuck him. Get to it before I lose my patience and bend him over-” Christian took him back in his mouth when his words only worked to make Bart’s thighs start to lean inwards insecurely. The soft warmth quickly caused his legs to fall back open as Christian hummed around him.

 

 

“Watch it.” Claire motioned up when Christian looked to him, and Christian noticed then how tense Bart’s body was arching up to him as he struggled to contain himself. He moved to kiss along his body instead, and Bart collapsed back to the mattress with heaving lungs. Bart hid his face in his hands when each of them pressed one of his legs open, and he shuddered as Claire’s fingers began to explore him.

 

 

The artist’s hands dropped to clench in the sheets when Claire’s fingers quickly hooked to stroke against his prostate. He panted desperately and writhed down against the intrusion as Christian only exhaled against his cock while he watched him react.

 

 

“Fuuuck.” Christian growled. “I bet he could come to it. Let me fuck him now.”

 

 

Bart’s hands moved back to cover his face as the suspense became too much. “Please...”

 

 

Claire wasn’t sure what he was asking for. “What do you want, baby?” When Bart didn’t seem to realize he was speaking so kindly to him, Claire shared a glance with Christian where the criminal let slide a rare glimpse of compassion. “Bart. Baby. What do you want?”

 

 

Bart shivered. “I d-don’t know. Anything. D-don’t s-stop.”

 

 

“Good enough for me.” Christian slid up his body even as Claire scoffed at the criminal.

 

 

“Claire...” Bart whimpered, reaching out for the conspiracy theorist as Claire settled in next to him and Christian shoved the artist’s body to face Claire.

 

 

“I think he has a favorite.” Christian’s tone was dark and accusing, and Bart sniffled as he wriggled closer to Claire to hide from the criminal in Claire’s chest.

 

 

Claire sighed. “No, he doesn’t, damn it, Christian. He’s just fucking scared of you, is all.” Claire tilted Bart’s face up and pressed his lips against his. “But he doesn’t need to be scared.” He deepened the kiss, and Bart’s arms tangled around him in the neediest way imaginable. “Right, Christian?” Claire was getting lost in Bart’s desperate searching as the artist threw his entire soul into the kiss.

 

 

“That’s right.” Christian’s mouth scorched a path across Bart’s shoulders before he hooked his hand under Bart’s thigh to spread him open. “You’re okay. Baby.” The way Christian said the pet name sounded almost mocking. Claire aimed a warning glance at him that softened when Christian smirked and whispered in the artist’s ear much more convincing. “No, really, Bart. Everything’s okay, baby.”

 

 

Bart moaned as he was sandwiched between two people giving him tender affection, gentle touches, and passionate kisses. He couldn’t quite remember what he’d ever had to cry about a short time ago.

 

 

Bart’s mouth fell open against Claire’s as Christian took him. Christian groaned and dug his fingers into his hip, and Claire’s hand dropped to cover Christian’s. None of them were sure if the touch was meant for an emotional connection or if Claire was just making sure Christian wasn’t clenching too hard against Bart’s skin. Bart was sure by that point that it was probably a little of both.

 

 

Christian angled properly inside him and then grunted in approval when Bart’s body seized up with his next thrust. Claire was torn, then, because he wanted to feel the artist around him, but he didn’t want to torment Bart into holding out longer than he was comfortable. He was entranced by Bart’s flushed features, slack jaw, and eyes that remained out of focus even as he tried to watch Claire in return. The artist had this heartbreaking bittersweet expression as he basked in all the attention now aimed at him as Claire made it so clear he found the sight of him in passion breathtakingly beautiful.

 

 

“Oh...oh god...C-Christian...” Bart gasped when the criminal’s name rolled off his lips and it caused Christian to suck in a breath and increase his pace. “Fuck, Christian! R-right there! H-holy sh-shit...”

 

 

Claire was framing his face now and drinking in his every reaction like he was one of Claire’s conspiracies he urgently needed to piece together. Bart fell against him as Christian’s thrusts became more aggressive, and Claire was about to remind him to be careful, but then Christian cursed out that he was going to come. He probably wasn’t going to convince him to do anything different when he was on the verge of climax, so Claire quickly slid down Bart’s body.

 

 

Bart’s hands clawed for him in his absence as he began to feel abandoned at his most vulnerable, but then Claire took him into his mouth and Bart choked on a high-pitched cry as he climaxed hard while calling out a steady chant of Claire’s and Christian’s names.

 

 

Christian’s hips stuttered as Claire brought the artist off. He cursed as he felt him clenching around him, and Bart’s body convulsed so hard that Christian had to wrap him arms around him to anchor him in place. Christian tumbled over the edge, pressing himself firmly into the violently jerking body as he held him and murmured soft encouragements into the artist’s ear.

 

 

Bart’s swimming mind slowly came back down from the high of his release just enough for him to realize he was wrapped tightly in Christian’s arms while the serial killer spoke so sweet to him. The artist shivered completely as he pressed back into the embrace just as Claire slid back into place to return to kissing him.

 

 

When Claire moaned loudly into his mouth, Bart realized that Christian had worked his hand down Claire’s pants to stroke him. Bart’s fingers clumsily fumbled with the button and zipper to help him, and he didn’t even flinch when Christian moved rapidly to shove Claire onto his back and yank his pants away.

 

 

Claire took a deep breath to steady himself, but his composure was short-lived as Christian swallowed him down. “F-f-fuck, Christian, I’m c-close!” Christian huffed around his cock in a silent insult on his stamina, but Claire ignored the jab as he pulled Bart to him and turned his head to kiss him again. Claire yelped and his eyes went wide as Christian crammed a finger inside him. “CHRISTIAN! YOU CAN’T JUST...oh god...oh fuck okay...yeah...”

 

 

Claire whimpered as he straddled a line between discomfort and ecstasy.  He looked back to Bart to find the artist watching him with fascination. Claire arched up as Bart slid his hand up his shirt and leaned in to kiss his neck. The tender attention was all he needed to convince him to let go instead of trying to figure out what game Christian might be trying to play with him now. Christian choked when Claire didn’t think to alert him he was going over the edge, but then the criminal adjusted and swallowed around him causing Claire to make rather geekish noises that worked to please the priest into humming around him.

 

 

Christian dropped Claire’s pants into his reach before collapsing in a breathless pile back on the other side of Bart. He didn’t try to hand Bart his clothes, and the artist curled in on himself as he tried to decide if it was less awkward to lie there naked or to try and brave climbing around the serial killer with vulnerable exposed skin to retrieve his own clothes. His hand unconsciously kneaded against Claire’s shirt as he worried, and Claire rolled towards him to gather him close. Bart burrowed against him as he felt Christian shifting to lift the covers, and the priest mercifully rolled one side of the blankets around the artist before moving flush against Bart’s back.

 

 

The artist stiffened at first, but then nothing malicious came of Christian being close to him. He glanced up to Claire’s face, and his eyes were doing that challenging glow thing again where he was bravely holding Christian’s eye contact while they did some kind of magic silent communication. Bart shivered, but relaxed when they both stroked along his body to soothe him.

 

 

It wasn’t long before Claire began to speak about a vast conspiracy. Christian hummed with obvious forced interest before asking him simple questions of common sense that Claire would then expertly twist in to his paranoid narrative. There were a few long moments where Christian tried to convince Claire that Bart was a lizard man, but Claire didn’t take the bait. Bart drifted off to sleep just after Christian returned from inhaling more cocaine and settled in to listen to Claire for as long as he wanted to ramble.

  

 

 

  

 

 


End file.
